Helen of Troy And Other Poems (20)

    Was that his step that sounded on the stair？Was that his knock I heard upon the door？ I grow so tired I almost cease to care,And yet I would that he might come once more.

    It was the wind I heard, that mocks¹ at me, The bitter wind that is more cruel than he； It was the wind that knocked upon the door, But he will never knock nor enter more.